Saura 
Imaginative MOD
Posts: 792
(1/29/04 2:05 am)
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I'm bored. Post a RPS-fic. Uh.
AUTHOR: SAURA
FANDOM: RPS-LOTRs
TITLE: NO-TITLE
PARING: Dominic / Elijah
DISCLAMER: Own nothing but my grammar and vocabulary mistakes. Want nothing but a native beta-er.
RATED: 13 – for bad words and dirty thoughts.
WARNINGS: bad words and uncountable grammar mistakes.
SUMMARY: In where the conflict is between fiction beings and the only one that can solve the fight is a real one.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: For the Contrelamontre (Lj) challenge of the week (surprising ending with a fantastic role, sort of…), but exactly at the contrary [I’m kinda weird, yep]. I think I messed up the challenge somewhere… But… well… Time limit 70 minutes. Took 71 [ouch!]. I hope you can excuse me being the first time [puppy face]
Dom can feel the pressure of two little feet on his left shoulder. Another pair are pressing his right one. Is amazing how real they both feel on a drunken Saturday night, at Billy’s place, like at five in the morning, sat on an uncomfortable chair, half sleep.
Dom’s mind is dizzy, is busy, is making circles. His ears are buzzing, and listening to another breath. His head feels heavy rested on his hand, and is sliding once and again from its position awaking him with hard jolts.
“You should be better on the bed” right-shoulder feet whispers on his ear.
“Mhm” Dom nods agreeing.
“No. He’s right here already. Now let us sleep, ok?” the child like voice of the left-shoulder feet is cheery and make his head ache with the sound of it.
“You shut up, c.unt” right-shoulder feet whispers still but now a little madly. “Don’t you see he’s gonna brake his neck in one of these?” Dom’s head slips again and now his head aches and his neck aches, and the rest of his body is about to slid to the floor.
“Shut up” he manages to say croakily and wearily.
“You see! You’ve awaken him!” left-shoulder feet starts walking over his shoulder blade, and it tickles.
“Me? ME? You and your f.uc.king complaining awoken him, c.unt”
“Shhhh” Dom tries to stop the fight.
He knows about those fights. When little angel (left-shoulder feet) and little evil (right-shoulder feet) start fighting and fulfilling his head with nuts. The worst fights always come out when he’s drunk. Like now. The worst fight ever was like two weeks before, oh-god, in a situation very similar to this. Dom’s not sure he could stand a fight like that one right now.
He opens his eyes and gazes the bed. Stares at the bulge inside the heavy covers that’s breathing quietly, sleeping, and completely unaware of the fight starting between his shoulders.
There’s a hand laying lazily out of the edge of the covers, holding the almost closed fingers out of the edge of the bed. Bitten fingers.
There’re some threshes of hair coming out from the upper part of the covers; brown, long, curly, messed hair.
Elijah.
Sleep, quiet, innocent, undefended, defeated, calm, beautiful… So beautiful, so sexy, so warm… God he’s just wearing a t-shirt and his underwear, isn’t him? So easy, so damn easy to touch him, to sense him, to kiss him, lick his shoulder… sweet Jesus… just a little bit while he’s sleeping, without him to notice…
“Stop putting ideas on my mind” Dom says angrily to the little evil on his right shoulder, who immediately covers a laugh.
“Yeah, stop putting ideas on our mind” agrees immediately little angel.
“And you shut the f.uck up! You’re putting me a headache, really” Dom continues angrily.
“Yeah, shut the f.uck up, and now let go to the bed, ok?” the little evil smiles.
“No” the little angel crosses his arms over his chest, and puts on a bad imitation of a really mad expression. “Elijah’s on bed, and we simply can’t go there”
“Billy told us to share bed” The evil defences himself. “Share.Bed… you get the meaning?”
“We can not share any bed with Elijah” the little angel sentences.
“Why not?”
“Yeah, why not?” Dom interrupts the conversation. “Is not like I can’t control myself, ah?”
“You see? We can control ourselves, little c.unt”
“You say this evil not to call me like that again!” cries the little angel. And Dom sighs.
“Do not call him like that again, c.unt” Dom orders, and the little evil laughs.
“Now. Go to the bed. Forget that crap of an angel, ok?” The little evil winks him an eye.
“Dominic Monaghan. You know if you put your body inside there, you’re not going to be able to control yourself. And you know what should happen if you try to touch Elijah…” The little angel tries again.
“Yeah, I know, I know…” Dom nods.
It should happen that Elijah should awake; it should happen that Elijah should turn to him, and slap his face for trying to take advantage of him, and should sue him for child molestation, and then should hate him for ever and never speak to him again, and then the films should be a disaster because Elijah should not stand his presence near him, and then Peter should hate him, and everybody should hate him…
“Yeah, yeah, ok, I got it, really… don’t go on!” Dom prays to the little angel that’s relating all that to his mind.
“Yeah, please, stop fulfilling our minds with all that s.hit” the little evil says like sick.
Dom stares at Elijah sleeping on one of the sides of the bed, his body placed letting his have some space, like he is on the other side. The little one hadn’t even noticed he never laid on the bed. He let him get into it, he let him come fast slept, and he simply sat on that chair.
But he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of him in the whole night, less now that he turns to the other side (his supposed one) and the covers sleds down and let him show his quiet, angelic face. Dom stares at his factions. God, he’s so beautiful. He is even more beautiful now, with his lids closed, those dark, populated eyelashes together, and with his lips a little parted breathing slowly. Not everyone can have the gift to see the little hyperactive Frodo so quiet and silent. One of Elijah’s hands moves inside the sheets to where he’s supposed to be, like searching for him, or maybe just wanting warmness. If Dominic was there, right then Elijah should be touching him.
“Stop it now!” the little angel almost screams.
“Do you mind? We’re getting excited, right? Let us concentrate!” the little evil screams on his side.
Dom’s feeling the starting of his erection risen up. He coughs, trying to get rid of the excitement. He moves a little on the chair. But gains nothing. His c.ock has a mind of its own, like his shoulders actually.
“Com’on! Go to the f.uc.king bed right now, and let him touch you!” the little evil prays desperately. “You’re made of stone or what?”
“No!” the little angel screams again. “Let us stay here. We don’t belong to that bed. We don’t belong to this boy. He’s our friend. And we need him as friend! Do not ruin our friendship, right?”
“F.uck the friendship! Go to the bed and f.uck him already, man! We can not life of air and slept beautifulness all the d.amn life, now do we? We need action, man!”
“No. We need love, that’s what we need! And love includes friendship. And we love Elijah, ok? Not for f.uc.king him senseless, but for love him, even on a platonic way…”
“He said f.uc.king, you heard him?” the little evil advices him on his ear. “We’re perverting the angel’s vocabulary, man” he laughs.
“It was a way of speaking” the little angel turns his body to the other side, crossing his arms over his chest, mad like.
“Now. Now the angel don’t look, go to the bed and take that hand!” the evil tempts.
“I may not be looking at you, but I know Dom loves Elijah more than this, don’t you, Dominic?”
Dom loves Elijah. F.uck, yes he does. Like a friend, like a man, like however you gonna put it but he loves him. And wants him. Yes, he does.
But the angel is right. He can’t enter the bed because he’s not sure he can control himself right now. And he wants whatever but loosing Elijah. Loosing his friendship and the trust the little one has on him is a really hard price for a bad movement, isn’t it?.
But the evil is also right. He can’t life of love in the air and handjobs calling out Elijah’s name for the rest of his life. He needs him, his warmness and all Elijah means…
What to do?
“Dom?” Elijah calls him in a sleepy, croaky voice opening his eyes and searching for him over the room. Seeing him rubbing that beautiful sleepy eyes is a gift too.
“Yes?” Dom manages to say.
“What’re you doing there?” Elijah lifts his body a little and stares weird at him.
Dom’s serious. His pointer finger is rubbing his lower lip. He’s staring at Elijah almost without blinking. “Looking at you” he says.
“Oh” Elijah smiles and raises till be sat on the bed. “And you like what you see?”
“Yes” it slid from his mouth without being able to hold it. He bites his lower lip and closes his eyes guiltily but late.
“That’s good” Surprisingly Elijah’s smile wideners. “Come here” he taps the bed twice.
“Better not” Dom answers fast, opening his eyes and looking at him.
“Come here” Elijah repeats, now purring.
Dom needs a terrible effort to recompose himself and wakes up from the chair. With doubtful steps, he makes his way to the bed, sits on the edge, and faces his friend. Elijah opens the covers for him still smiling innocently.
“Come inside” the boy half orders half invites confusingly.
“I’m dressed still” Dom says in a whisper, unable to keep off his eyes from Elijah’s.
“We can solve that” Elijah lains a little to Dom’s side and places a little kiss on the corner of his mouth, while one of his hands lifts up to the first button on Dom’s shirt, unbuttoning it. Dom blushes intensively and gasps. “Keep it out and get inside. Give me some warmness, right?” Elijah purrs.
The sound of two quiet ‘poffs’ over his shoulders, is the last thing Dom is going to confess about that night.
The end.
In the name of Imagination...
Edited by: Saura at: 1/29/04 2:11 am
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